Cherry turned to him. It was a guy her age. Dark hair, clean-cut. Round glasses. His cheeks were red, and he was holding a copper mug. He might already be drunk.
Cherry nodded.
The guy leaned toward her. “I had pajamas that looked like that when I was six.”
“Back in the 1940s?”
“My mom made all my clothes.”
“That sounds nice,” Cherry said, biting down on some ice and looking away.
“You were in my ethics class,” he said.
She looked back at him. That couldn’t be right; she’d remember this guy from class. He was good-looking in a way that Cherry would have noticed. She liked his hair—short and wavy, but not clippered. Long enough to fall into his eyes. He pushed it off his forehead. His eyes were dark and sparkling—he was probably drunk.
“I sat in the back,” he said. “When I came. It was an eight a.m. class—I wasn’t built for it.”
Cherryhadtaken ethics at eight a.m....
“You sat in front,” he went on. “You’re fond of sweaters.”
“Youarefond of sweaters,” Stacia said. She was standing behind Cherry, grinning.
The guy cut his eyes to Stacia, then back to Cherry. He held out his hand. “I’m Russ.”
Cherry took his hand. “Cherry. And this is Stacia.”
“Cherry,” he said. “Is that your swing-dancing name?”
“My what?”
“You know, like... rockabilly girl. With the dress.Susie. Dixie. Flo. Cherry.Is your real name Jessica or something?”
“Her real name is Cherish,” Stacia said, laughing.
Russ made a face like he hadn’t expected that. “Oh god, that’s actually sweet.”
“I’m not a rockabilly girl,” Cherry said. “I’m just a person wearing a dress.”
“I said I liked it.”
“I know you.” Stacia pointed at him.
Russ nodded. “We had econ together.”
“That’s right—your name isRuss.” Staciawasalready a little drunk.
“So,doyou swing-dance?” he asked Cherry.
She rolled her eyes back up to him. “You’re wearing round glasses. Does that make you a boy wizard?” (She actually liked his glasses a lot.)
“Maybe. Why’d your parents name you Cherish?”
Cherry sighed. “Why’d your parents name you Russ?”
“It’s my dad’s name. And my grandpa’s.”
Cherry couldn’t figure out why this guy was talking to her. Guys didn’t talk to her in bars. Unless they werereallydrunk. Or really old. Or if it was getting close to last call and they were lashing out in every direction.
